


Dominion

by witchsoup



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Developing Relationship, Drama, F/M, Order Member Draco Malfoy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Redemption, War, ok so basically think of a character any character, they will probably show up, will possibly undergo an archive warning change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:38:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9565325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchsoup/pseuds/witchsoup
Summary: As if Harry could have possibly seen it coming there’s a Shield covering Ginny like a cloak, but Malfoy’s out the room before Hermione can say a word. Harry gives her a look, something soft in his eyes - Draco Malfoy has joined the ranks of war orphans. She's the only one with the stomach to make sure he doesn't throw himself out of the attic window.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am doing a very bad thing, and rewarding myself for being sociable by posting the prologue. I cannot stress enough how I have no update schedule planned. I've written 4 chapters ahead of this but that's taken months, and they all require major editing. I'm being so bad, but this story has been staring at me all week, ever since I decided on the title.

Harry's glass has been drained twice just fifteen minutes into the broadcast. Nine of them around a table, and only Dean's name hasn't been mentioned yet. The game is a Weasley twin brainchild, conceived when the latest food delivery to Grimmauld Place was turned out onto the floor, a dusty bottle of rum rolling slowly to a stop beside a packet of instant mashed potato.

Without the written request placed last week Hermione wouldn’t even be here - she arrived just after nine and there's a Portkey in her bag set to leave for Bradford at four. Escorting the de facto leader of the Order across the country is a job most of them would jump at. However, when Harry has any say it's consistently foisted upon her, pulled out of scouting missions and into tactical meetings.

Remus was the only choice for the role, buried under paperwork and the admonition of Minerva McGonagall who reassured him that babysitting the adults should be somewhat easier than protecting three hundred children from the Death Eaters they call Professor. 

Things are simpler, now. She had wished, more than once, for the adults to take over - someone with authority, someone with a plan. The price they pay is being treated like children.

Most of them are not aware of their rank, that there are ranks at all beyond the ones they refer to as the higher ups, the people Remus Lupin decides are useful. Messages of unity were left behind in the halls of Hogwarts; they are sorted, numbered, told where to sleep and where to sit around a table and whom to ask if they need to take a piss. Sleeping arrangements are supposed to be carefully co-ordinated. Just like their intelligence is foolproof until it’s not. Food stores are meant to last until they don’t. Remus is lauded as the voice of reason until the moon rises above the clouds.

Hermione and Ginny are supposed to sleep separately at all times, their place in the hierarchy clear: the people Harry Potter decides are indispensable. All Phoenixes are equal, but some Phoenixes are more equal than others.

The Chosen One has seen nothing but the inside of safe houses - Grimmauld Place, the Burrow, two weeks in a tent on the late Bathilda Bagshot's living room floor - for almost three months. Tomorrow, he turns eighteen. Hermione is technically half of his detail, under orders to perch at the side of a ball pit while he plays with his godson. There's a suitable enough place, somewhere near Glasgow, owned by a sympathetic Squib and currently shrouded in more Muggle repelling wards than Hogwarts.

Until then, this is how they must amuse themselves.

An ancient looking wireless was abandoned at Grimmauld some time in the last month by McGonagall who insists they at least listen to the evening news - it’s never switched off, maybe only turned down between Ministry mandated hourly broadcasts. George is a firm believer that anything, even the voice of Voldemort’s agenda, can be turned into a drinking game.

_"-sighted in Abergavenny. The Minister for Magic asks that the general public remain vigilant against suspicious activity, especially in crowded Wizarding areas. The visitors’ entrance to the Ministry of Magic will be closed until six am on August first and all Ministry employees will be subject to searches on arrival. Travel through the Leaky Cauldron into Diagon Alley will also be restricted. Although we have not received intelligence concerning rebel action-"_

George bangs on the table with his beer bottle and someone flicks a wand towards the wireless which fades into a low murmur.

"Harry James Potter. The reason we're here. The reason we've got permission to get utterly pissed - except Hermione who's mainly here to clean up your sick-"

"Please, George." She grimaces and takes a sip of her orange juice - supermarkets don’t sell pumpkin juice, to Molly’s distress. 

He merely winks, and Fred stands at his side, chiming in for the remainder of the toast.

"To Harry. The Boy Who refuses to stay out of our house, no matter how many times we catch him with his hand up Ginny's top, totally shameless I'm telling you-"

There's a sound under the table like a heavy boot meeting a shin and Ginny begins singing 'for he's a jolly good fellow' in a very loud voice.

“How many times has Dad caught them behind his shed? Seven?”

The three Weasleys, Harry and Dean sit at one end of the long table while Hermione perches on the kitchen counter at Harry's shoulder. Susan Bones and Luna are making rum cake, and where Hermione can see the rum in the pink of Susan's cheeks Luna seems unaffected.

Malfoy is the back of a blond head reflecting firelight beside the hearth, three beer bottles by the leg of his chair although he refuses to play their game. They had cake and green icing on _his_ birthday. Neville gave him a bag of seeds, something that was supposed to thrive in the window basket outside his attic bedroom. Even Molly, who made the cake and finds it difficult to begrudge him affection, the latest of her strays, found an excuse to defect to the Burrow for a night.

Hermione pretended not to see him flush Neville’s seeds down the toilet, drunk and graceless, the scowl sitting slack on his face as he pushed past her towards the attic. She was an almost silent witness to the sad little celebration, absconding to her bedroom with two slices of his cake the moment it was cut.

Pulling her gaze away from the back of his head she turns to see Luna fiddling with the volume just in time to catch the last feature of the program -

_"Finally the Department of Magical Law Enforcement wishes to remind citizens that any member of the so-called Order of the Phoenix should not be approached by members of the public. Charges filed against its known members are as follows:_

_"Abbot, Hannah, for breach of the peace…"_

They must do their best to ignore the gaps in the alphabet, the role call of wanted Phoenixes shorter than they would like. In the past year or so they've lost more people than they had since Voldemort's resurrection - since Harry's been safe, shielded by the best bodies the Order can offer.

_"Bones, Susan Amelia, for arson, vandalism-"_

At the mention of her name Susan raises her glass and begins to drink, her other hand braced on the counter while they count her charges - she's up to six before they move on to Creevey, Colin for truancy from Hogwarts school.

Hermione is faced with three separate counts of illegal use of the Fidelius Charm, Side Along Apparition of a minor without a permit - Ginny almost died on the way out of Hogsmeade when Alecto Carrow had done her best to burn the girl alive - terrorist conspiracy, fraud, et cetera et cetera. Neville’s final retreat from the castle was a bloodbath. They don't speak about it, but he's more valuable to the Order as a soldier than he ever could be as a leader of children. 

Amycus murdered a third year Ravenclaw the second week of the Easter term, out in the grounds in full view of Professors Sprout and Slughorn. The girl had run from Amycus screaming, had been trying to make it into the Forest - her body lay crumpled at the tree line for hours before the Professors could move her, before Amycus stopped shooting curses at anyone who came near. He hasn't been seen since, most likely punished for his incompetence and the bad press it has generated for the administration.

_"Malfoy, Draco Lucius, for the murder of Narcissa Malfoy-"_

It's deathly silent in the kitchen for a moment, until the announcer regrets to describe the brutality of the crime.

An empty bottle, formerly resting against Malfoy’s knee, hits the wall above Ginny’s head and shatters.

As if Harry could have possibly seen it coming there’s a Shield covering Ginny like a cloak, but Malfoy’s out the room before Hermione can say a word. Harry gives her a look, something soft in his eyes - Draco Malfoy has joined the ranks of war orphans. She's the only one with the stomach to make sure he doesn't throw himself out of the attic window.


End file.
